I Will Be Your Slave
by Spiritus Scriptor
Summary: Toby is sent home after Sarah solves the labyrinth, but a simple mistake leaves her trapped there. Jareth takes the opportunity to reveal his true intentions to her, and leaves her with a choice. But will he keep his promises?
1. Trapped

**This wonderful brain fart of a story popped into my head last night after I decided to watch Labyrinth for some unfathomable reason. I hadn't seen it in years, and this time around I realized that Jareth's motives are...well, what are they, exactly? So I decided to make him a bit more of a creeper than in the movie, and you'll see where that leads. I hope. **

* * *

"My kingdom is great…my kingdom is…damn, I can never remember that line…"

"Sarah," the soft, hypnotic voice of the Goblin King commanded. Here in this otherworldly realm, nothing mattered anymore. Nothing except getting back home.

"Where is the child?" she heard herself asking automatically. It had been her quest, after all, to get him back. "Where is my brother?"

"He is back home, safe and sound. As I promised. You've won him back." The Goblin King deftly held the crystal ball in his fingertips. She could see the faint image of her brother playing in his crib. She took a step closer, and another. She had to see for herself that he was truly all right. Impulsively, she lifted the orb from the King's outstretched hand just as the clock began to strike.

"Oh, no…" she whispered, realizing what she had just done. Throwing the glass sphere to the floor, she found that it did not shatter. Of course it didn't. Jareth had thrown one and it had bounced.

"Your fate, however, is now an entirely different matter," her unwanted companion smirked. Foolishly, she retrieved the crystal, held it in both hands, and closed her eyes. This crystal, he'd said, contained her dreams. Her only dream now was to be home. After a moment, she opened one eye to see the King staring at her condescendingly, a sneer forming on his lips. "And what did you think you were going to do with that?" he asked with a sinister chuckle. "_Wish_ yourself away?"

She opened both her eyes and stared defiantly back at him. "As a matter of fact…"

"It can't be done," he finished for her. "You've sealed your fate by taking the crystal."

"Undo it, then!" she demanded petulantly. "You can do anything…can't you?"

"No! I'm finished doing things for you, Sarah!" he barked as he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back into reality—_his _reality—as easily as if they were passing through a curtain. "Now the time has come for _you_ to do something for _me_."

"What do you want of me?" she asked, her voice hitching. It took every ounce of willpower she had left not to burst into tears.

The King took notice of her distress and lifted her chin so that her watery gaze met his stern one. "Come now, there's no need to be like that. As long as you obey me I promise no harm shall come to you." She would not listen, and jerked her chin from his grasp. At long last, he sighed and laid a hand on her shoulder. "There's nothing more to be done. You're stuck here and that's that. You may as well accept it."

She turned away from him as a single tear fell from her eye. "Never."

"Have you learned nothing from your time here?" he wondered. "I am _trying_ to offer you comfort. But if you keep refusing me, I will have no choice but to become your enemy. And if that happens, there is no safe place anywhere in the city or in the labyrinth for you. Not even in an oubliette. I know what you are thinking, Sarah. Do not test me."

She nodded and allowed him to take her hand and lead her away from the maze of endless stairs. She would let him believe that he had her…for now.

But she would need to find another way out.

* * *

"Here we are," he swung open the heavy wooden door to reveal a cozy, well-lit cavernous room with purple stained glass windows and an enormous canopy bed with cloud-like white coverings. "This should suit you."

"It does," Sarah said woodenly, her lines well-rehearsed. "Thank you."

"Shall I send for a meal to be brought?" Jareth asked.

Sarah gave it some consideration. She was ravenously hungry, but there _was_ that peach he had given her…She decided she would only eat when she absolutely couldn't stand the hunger anymore.

"The food will not hurt you." he assured her, as though reading her thoughts.

"All right," she agreed, after a moment's more consideration.

"And if you don't mind," he continued. "I'd like to speak with you later about something very important."

"Why would I mind?" she had to be very careful what she said from now on if she were ever to get out of here.

"Don't think I don't know you're planning on running away, Sarah." He sounded exasperated as he circled her and locked her gaze with his once more. "I'll always be two steps ahead of you." With a chuckle he retreated from the room, leaving Sarah alone with her thoughts.

The door closed behind him with a solid thud and for a good minute Sarah just stared at it, as if willing it to open for her. She did not notice that behind her, the room had changed from a warm, inviting space to a dank, musty old room that had been long abandoned. When at last she turned around and saw that she had been tricked, she merely sighed and sank down on an old rotting chest at the foot of the bed.

"Why am I not surprised?" she asked the thin air. She had gotten over being shocked by anything in this strange world. Now, she was just tired. The tears of despair she had been holding back burst forth. She didn't care if Jareth could see her somehow. She had nothing left to protect.

"Oh, dear." chided a familiar voice after an indeterminate amount of time had passed. "Are you not happy with your arrangement?"

Sarah looked up to find the room had changed back to a comfortable, well-lit one, complete with a roaring fire and a dining table set with a feast. The Goblin King sat as though waiting for her as he poured himself a glass of wine.

"Care to join me?" he asked nonchalantly. "There's another chair, you know."

"I can see that," she answered, matching his tone. Wiping her eyes before turning to him, she hoped to put on a brave face. "I will join you."

"Good," he purred, gesturing to the vacant chair. She sat down and he poured her a glass of wine, and motioned that she should take some food. There was a whole roasted chicken and potatoes and so much more she lost track. Her stomach audibly complained of its hunger, but she was still hesitant to take any. She didn't trust Jareth any further than she could throw him.

"I told you, it won't hurt you. You have my word." he promised, taking some food for himself.

Sarah followed suit, and once she had swallowed the first mouthful, asked, "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"I know you're young yet," Jareth smiled cunningly, "But I was wondering if, someday, you might agree to have me."

"Have you? You mean…_marry_ you?"

"If it comes to that." he replied cunningly. "I do not wish to lie to you, Sarah. I've had others before. I am as old as time itself. But it has been a long time since the last, and I've gotten rather lonely."

"Do you mean to tell me you selected me, specifically?"

"Yes. The child, you see…well, that just made it all the more easy for me. I played the part you wanted me to play, Sarah. I was the villain you had envisioned. But I can be more, much more, if only you say the word. I selected you because you're strong, my dear. Stronger than any others I've seen in a while."

"Can I ask you something?" Sarah asked boldly.

"Of course," he said, however, his posture changed suddenly from relaxed to tense.

"How long were you watching me?"

"Oh, not too long. Perhaps a year." he smirked.

"A _year_?"

"Oh, don't look so shocked. I didn't watch you _that _closely." he chortled. "Just enough to know that you were well worth my time. If I may admit something to you, I'm getting rather tired of playing the villain. If you will allow me to show you my true self, will you show me yours as well? I promise, Sarah, I really did not mean you any harm. I simply…well, I simply wanted to get you here."

"And you couldn't think of a better way than _that_?" she accused, her hunger quite forgotten.

"And how do you propose I should have done it? Whisk you away in the dead of the night without any sort of introduction? I realize the one we had was less than ideal, but at least it was something."

"I'll say it was something," she replied. She almost laughed at the absurdity of this conversation, but caught herself just in time.

"Do me one small favor," he said. "And consider it. Sleep on it tonight—the room will be just the same when you wake—and tomorrow, if it's your decision, I will send you home."

"Thank you."

"Good night, then, Sarah." he smiled, and then disappeared.

"Good night…Jareth."

All hope was not lost, though she didn't really trust him to honor his word. There was the slightest of possibilities that she might still get home after all. It was only a simple matter of playing her cards right.

* * *

**So...that's that, then. Review and we shall see whether or not I should continue this farce of a story. Also, I'm not sure what I should rate it. It could get pretty dark depending on where I decide to take it. **


	2. Getting to know you

**An update already! I'm on a roll! **

**And yes, Jareth gets massively OOC in this chapter. I found it difficult to give him a backstory while keeping him the arrogant Goblin King we all know and love. Believe me, I tried. **

* * *

The next morning, Sarah awoke to find that everything was indeed the same as when she had fallen asleep. The only reason she knew it was morning was from the faint glow of sunlight coming in through the thick purple glass, casting an odd pall of faded color across the room. _Why is there sunlight in the Underground, anyway?_ she wondered briefly. For a few moments she was content to just lie in bed and stare up at the light dancing on the canopy above her. For those few moments, she almost forgot where she was…and why she was here.

But then she saw something out of the corner of her eye, glinting in the light. A cream-colored gown lay carefully placed across a chair. Sarah got up to examine it. It was beautiful, with delicate silver embroidery and little diamond-shaped mirrors sewn into the sleeves. It was something like what she'd imagined her wedding dress to look like, someday…

"Ugh!" she cried, flinging the dress to the floor. "You won't win me over that easily, Jareth!" she shouted. "I know you!"

"Do you really?" crooned his voice from behind her. "Now that _is_ something."

Sarah whirled around to face him, her face red with rage and embarrassment. "Stop that! What if I _had_ been changing?"

"Then I must say I would have gotten quite a show," he replied with a smile, striding over and lifting her chin as though to examine her. "And I must say, be sorely disappointed on our wedding night."

She pushed his hand away. "You're disgusting." she spat.

"I try to show a modicum of dignity and morality, and you call me disgusting? There really is no pleasing you, is there?"

"What would please me," she challenged, advancing on him, for she would not fear him any longer. "Is if you would leave me alone!"

"Keep your temper, my dear." He looked almost…defeated. "I will do as you wish."

And with those words, she was left alone again to ponder her fate.

* * *

Sarah was tired of being in the same room all day. She'd tried to venture out a few times, but every time she did, the passageway seemed to have changed direction. Not wanting to get lost or—heaven forbid—have to run the labyrinth again, she stayed where she was until she could stand it no longer.

"Goblin King! I know you can hear me!" she called. "I'm ready to talk!"

"There's no need to shout." he replied, pushing the door open as if he had been waiting just outside all this time. Perhaps he had, since the last time she opened it. The thought of constantly being watched sent shivers down her spine. "Have you made a decision?"

"Not quite yet," she said, biding her time. "I figured, before I make the final call, I'd like to know more about you. All you've told me is that 'you're as old as time itself'. Which, you'll forgive me for saying, isn't really much. If I'm going to stay, I'd like to get to know you."

"Well…" Jareth considered. "At least you're warming up to me."

"Maybe. What I'd really like to know, if it's not too insulting, is…well, what are you? You're the Goblin King, but you're obviously not a goblin, and you're not human either."

"I'm a mixture of things," he said, a hint of sadness showing through his usually haughty tone. But she would not feel sorry for him, not yet. "Mine is not a happy story. How do you think I ended up as king of the goblins? By my own choice?" He gazed at her with an unreadable expression. "No, my dear. I was banished here." The disdain was back in his voice now, but it was not arrogance. It was hatred.

"You said you'd show me your true self." His young companion urged. "But if it's too much…"

"No." he said with a sigh. "I did promise, didn't I? Well…" There was a long pause as he sat down and rested his chin on the back of one hand as if deep in thought. As he did the night before, he gestured for her to take a seat in the unoccupied chair across from him. "Where shall I begin?"

"Anywhere." she prompted.

"My mother was a nereid. They're cousins to sirens, but where sirens are deadly, nereids can be helpful. Well, she aided my father. But he wanted...something more. She was no match for him. He let her live, but he…saddled her with me. After I was born, she did not want me, of course. Why would she? So she took me to him. I was raised in his household—purely obligatory, you understand—until _he_ decided I was of age. And then he sent me here, never to return."

"What was your father?" Sarah asked, fully expecting him not to answer.

"My father's name was Dagon."—here Jareth broke off and pinched the bridge of his nose, turning away from her towards the flames in the fireplace as though he could see them through closed eyes— "Sarah, before I continue, you must understand. I am more ashamed of my roots than you can possibly imagine. And I am not my father."

Sarah merely nodded in reply.

"He was a dokkalfar—dark elf." he translated. "As you can guess, they're not known for being particularly…good. Which, I suppose, explains me quite a bit, doesn't it?"

She didn't know what to say. Should she believe him? Feel sorry for him? What? Deciding it was best to follow along, if he was going to play at being vulnerable, she would play at being comforting. "I understand. You don't have to go on…unless you want to." Cautiously, she extended her hand to him, and he took it. She enclosed his hand in both of hers, and he jolted as though it were something he'd never experienced before. Which he probably hadn't, if he were telling the truth.

"I have tried, all my life, not to be like him. But as his son, I inherited some of his powers. When I told you I could be cruel, I meant it. I am capable of terrible things."

"Yet somehow you've managed to grow a conscience," she added glibly, and then wished she hadn't. He pulled his hand from hers and cast a dark look.

"I suspect whatever good that's in me came from my mother," he growled. "I never knew her. When she took me to my father, he had her killed." His explanation was short and to the point, though Sarah could see even saying that much opened up old wounds. Maybe it _was_ true. Or he was an exceptionally gifted actor.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. And she genuinely was. It was a tragic tale that he told her. "I know what it's like."

"Do you?" The supercilious tone was back.

"My mother…didn't love us. Me or my father. She left us."

"And yet, you idolize her. She was an actress. Like you hope to be." So he wasn't bluffing when he said that he knew her dreams. This one, however, was a common enough dream that he could have merely guessed at even if he hadn't been watching her for a year. She'd probably grow out of it soon enough, anyway. When had she begun doubting herself—and everything else, for that matter—so much? She knew, though she didn't want to say, that it was the moment she stepped into the labyrinth. Things were not always what they seemed. And the same applied to people, she was learning. "Tell me, Sarah. Why do you want to be like a woman who hated you?"

"I didn't say she hated us. She just…didn't love us. There's a difference."

"Between hatred and indifference? Yes. But she left. She was more than indifferent, Sarah. She left you for the same reason my mother gave me away, for the same reason my father banished me. She despised you. She wanted nothing to do with you." His voice was calm. He had the upper hand again, and he knew it. He was merely slipping back into his role.

She would not let him win. He would not have her in his back pocket just like that. "Stop twisting my words, Goblin King, or I'll make my decision to leave right now!"

"All right! I'll stop!" Was that—frustration? Had he actually erred? No. Impossible. The Goblin King never faltered. But Jareth could. Jareth could be exhausted, that she knew already, and he could be cornered. But she was discovering that he was just as imperfect as any human. He could feel pain, and anger, and regret…and loneliness. Longing. It had been Jareth speaking to her all along, not the Goblin King.

For now, she would believe him.

* * *

**My knowledge of mythology is kind of spotty, but I figured that was a good combination of things to sum up Jareth. Helpful, but not always with the best intentions. Or actions. **

**Didn't put this at the top because spoilers, but I wanted to write him as actually having an honest moment with Sarah, whether or not she chooses to believe him. And having him bare his soul to her a bit does kind of take him out of character.**

**Review?**


	3. Imprisoned

**Happy birthday to David Bowie! **

**Also, here's a new chapter. The end gets kind of...um...suggestive. I might up the rating to M after all. **

* * *

"Now, Sarah," the Goblin King said abruptly. "I've told you what you wanted to know. In fact, I've told you _more_ than you wanted to know. You know who I am now. Is that not enough for you to consider staying?"

"No."

"_No?"_

"That's what I said," Sarah looked at him, bemused. She thought he was being genuine…how could she let him fool her so easily?"

"Why ever not?"

"Because background and character are two different things!"

"Oh, you've seen my character. I daresay you don't like it very much." He got up and strode about the room. "In fact, you don't care for me at all, do you? You don't appreciate anything I've done for you! I am offering you a _fantasy_ to live in, Sarah. Isn't that what you've always wanted? To dress up in beautiful gowns and wander in sumptuous gardens and find a handsome prince?" he chuckled darkly. This whole tirade was accompanied by dramatic gestures and glances that ranged from enraged to wistful.

"Maybe that's what I wanted once," she explained hesitantly. "But I learned things in the labyrinth. What I thought were the most important things in the world really weren't important at all." _It's all junk!_ she had cried as the strange trash woman piled more and more things into her arms.

"I see," Jareth mused. "Well, then. I dare not keep you from what you really want. You want to go home. You are sure?"

"Yes," she said. "I am sure."

Without a word from him, Sarah felt the space around her changing, shifting. There was a horrible feeling, just for a flicker of an instant, that she would be turned inside out. And when she opened her eyes—

She was in an oubliette.

Damn it.

"Jareth!" she screamed, pushing against the wall in a vain attempt at finding a door. "You dirty liar! You said you would send me home!"

"I said nothing of the sort."

"You said it yesterday," she argued, rolling her eyes and turning to face the Goblin King who was so eager to weasel his way out of things. She was getting tired of playing mind games with him and having him pop up everywhere.

"I suppose…but a lot has happened since then."

"Like what?"

"Well, you see…"— here he paused to examine an invisible speck of something on his cuff—"There's a bit of an issue that I must have forgotten to mention. One forgets so many things when dealing with such an errant girl like you." he accused, jabbing her in the chest with his riding crop. His demeanor changed suddenly to mock thoughtfulness. "Now what was it that I forgot to tell you? Oh, yes. If you go back now, you will find the world greatly changed. Two hundred years have passed just in the time it took us to have that _stimulating_ conversation regarding my heritage."

"That's ridiculous—that's _impossible_."

"I assure you, it isn't. Do you remember when I said I had reordered time? I had it planned so that, should you manage to get through the labyrinth, you would return home at precisely midnight on October the fourth, nineteen eighty-six. The moment you considered staying here was the moment I lost control of the labyrinth's time span. I can only slow it down for so long—a mere thirteen hours." Jareth produced a crystal from thin air and gazed into it. "Ah. It appears, though, that you still have living relatives. Your little brother's great-great-great-_ great_ grandchildren. I could send you to them, if you'd like. Although I doubt they'll believe you when you tell them who you are. Toby remembered his sister in name only—he was so _young _when she disappeared." he hissed, giving her a falsely sympathetic stare laced with accusation.

Sarah didn't know whether to cry or be angry, so she decided on both. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks as she flew at the Goblin King and beat her fists against him. He did nothing to stop her. "You _monster_!" she screeched. "You evil, repulsive, manipulative…_thing!_ You're not a king at all! You're some _creature _who just snatches people away and…and…"

"And what?" he questioned, seemingly unfazed by the savage beating he had just received. He merely straightened his clothes and brushed off imaginary dust. "I am all that's left for you now. You'd best come to terms with that sooner or later."

The door swung shut behind him as he strode out, leaving Sarah all alone in the dark.

* * *

He knew how she would react. Why else would he have preemptively put his darling Sarah in an oubliette to be forgotten about until it would next convenience him? She had asked questions, and he had given her truthful answers. And because of that, she could never leave. None who had ever demanded to know who and what he was had ever left the Underground again. She was far from the first.

He had not ceased to manipulate time, he had sped it up a bit—not that he would ever tell her. What was done was done. It had caused no damage; humans could not perceive great shifts in time. But everyone she ever knew was long dead. She did not belong there anymore. In fact, if she went back, she would die almost immediately—after all, who ever heard of a human living for two hundred and fourteen years? It didn't happen.

She didn't know how generous he was. He could have killed her for beating him. But he had not. He could leave her in that oubliette until she died. But he would not. If she would not love him of her own free will, then he would _make_ her love him. He would wipe her memory clean, so that in her eyes, he was her past, present, and future. He would create for her an inescapable dream world, much more intense than the one she had previously entered. It would become her reality, as it would his, and they would be united, once and for all.

A hasty solution, yes. But he _was_ impatient. Sarah puzzled him more than he cared to admit. The others had all broken more easily. No matter how resistant they were at the start, they hadn't held out near as long. Some had gone mad long before ever completing the labyrinth and had viewed him as their reward. But not Sarah. Oh, no. This little girl viewed him only as a rather unworthy adversary. He both admired and hated her for that.

And certainly none had ever pummeled him like she had. Who did she think she was, this little wretch who was both so annoying and so fascinating? His chest still ached from the force of her blows, though he knew he would not bruise. She was feisty, yes, and resilient. He liked that. But he did not want her to fight him.

She was also, he knew, very young. A thousand years Aboveground would pass before she aged even a decade here.

How much longer would he have to wait?

* * *

Sarah had no idea what time of day it was or how long she'd been in the oubliette. Hours seemed like days, and days seemed an eternity. One thing she could say, however, was that with her senses gone, her other senses had gotten more acute. She could hear things scratching in the darkness, and once, when she was finally exhausted from her frantic search for a hidden door and was finally falling asleep, she thought she heard voices. Whether they were voices of those who had been trapped here and possibly died or mere figments of her imagination, she could not say. But she knew she heard them.

While she slept, she dreamed. She dreamed of horrible faceless creatures grabbing and tugging at her and pulling her forward, much like the hands that had pulled her down into the oubliette the first time. Was she being rescued? Was Jareth finally going to let her out of here? Had he been lying about the two hundred years? Even if she never got back home, she needed to get out of here, or she would certainly go mad. The creatures were getting more violent, pulling at her hair and ripping her clothes from her body until she stood, fully nude, in front of a tall blond figure who eyed her hungrily. He stepped forward with an animal lust and caressed her pale skin with gloved hands He gave her a kiss that was anything but chaste, and something like an electric shock went through her body. There was euphoria for the briefest of moments as she could practically hear her blood course through her veins, and then he vanished. Afterwards, there was only pain.

Sarah woke with a start, hitting her head on the low ceiling. And suddenly, she knew the dream was not hers.

It was his. And she wanted no part of it.

* * *

**I know the transition was kind of weird, but I was hoping for an abrupt, dreamlike feel with that scene. There will probably be a lot of "turning on a dime" moments in this story. **

**Reviews please? It would make me very happy!**


	4. A Rescue from Without

**Woot! Spring break! **

**And I'm...sitting alone in my apartment updating my stories instead of working on my tan on a beach in Florida. **

**I suppose it's for the best. **

**Here's chapter four. **

* * *

She was running through a field of wildflowers. It was a warm day, not quite summer, and she would have liked nothing more than to just lie back in the soft bed of grass and breathe the fresh air for eternity. But she knew that day would turn to night, and then horrible creatures would come for her. It was best to go home before then…if she could find the way back from wherever she was.

But she wouldn't let that bother her now. It was still early in the day. She walked until she was no longer in open fields, but on a stone path that led on and on. She soon found herself in a pleasant little garden with a shade tree and a bench, and a little pond in which the most extraordinarily-colored fish were swimming.

She sat down on the bench and reclined, folding her hands behind her head and gazing up at the sky through the leaves in the trees, heavy with blossoms. A calm breeze gently stirred the branches and shook some petals loose, and they drifted slowly down to rest in her dark hair. Sighing, she closed her eyes and breathed in their sweet scent. This was a truly magical place. She wished she could stay forever.

It was night when next she opened her eyes. Had she dozed off again, or had the scenery changed in the instant it took her to blink? Colors swam on the edge of her perception, and then coalesced to form something in the sky above her that looked like a very near galaxy. It was so beautiful… more beautiful even than the garden she was in. She was gripped with the overwhelming desire to be part of it, to dance among the stars, to be awash in the light of the cosmos.

As if she had voiced her wishes, a beam of silvery light descended from the nebula, bathing the garden in its splendor. A figure floated down, light as a feather. It—she—alighted soundlessly on the paving stones and advanced towards her as she sat upright, both awed and terrified. The woman's skin was stark white and luminescent, as was her gown which floated around her like a mere suggestion of clothing. In fact, the only color she possessed was her long, flowing hair, which was a brilliant shade of blonde that seemed to conduct its own light and form an eerie halo around her entire body.

"Come, child." She spoke in a musical voice mere words could not describe. It was as though the stars themselves were speaking. "I am here to rescue you from your terrible fate."

Hypnotically, she obeyed, standing and placing her hand in the being's outstretched one and instantly regretting it, but unable to break away. This Fae's skin burned like ice and fire all at once. The being opened her eyes and her young companion instantly cast hers downward. A blinding light emanated from them that hurt to look at.

_Why must beauty be so painful_? The thought was foreign to her, and yet she was sure it was hers and no one else's. Someone was responsible for her being here, but she could not remember who it was. She remembered little more than a dominating presence and a silken voice that promised so much and so little at the same time.

The woman held her closer as they began to ascend into the stars. Sarah opened her mouth to scream; touching this creature was unbearably painful. However, she found she had no voice. Her vocal cords could produce no sound. Was this the price she was to pay for her rescue?

If so, it was hardly worth it.

* * *

Elissa had found her. Jareth pressed a hand to his temple as the brilliant light vanished from the crystal he held deftly in the tips of his fingers. Of course. This was not an unusual phenomenon. People disappeared from oubliettes all the time… if they had been left there long enough. Beings from other kingdoms would come and snatch them away. He had watched her struggle and scream in darkness, convulse in some bizarre hallucination. He hadn't meant for this to happen. All she'd had to do was call for him, and he would have been there to take her back.

But she never had. And now she was gone from his sight, gone from the labyrinth. She was in another world. And he did not know whether she would ever return. Why must she twist his heart so? It was as though she held it, alive and beating, in her hands as easily as he held his crystals and was plunging a knife into it over and over again. But no matter. He would forget her entirely, in time, much as it would pain him. If she wanted to come back, the only way was if she wished it so. He doubted that she remembered who he was anymore. Elissa's powers were much greater even than his, a fact which irked him to no end. When she cast a spell of oblivion, it was unbreakable…and permanent.

He had lost her. His darling. His Sarah.

* * *

The strange celestial woman and her new companion alighted in the middle of a large, oppressively bright room. Outside the stars swirled together in a myriad of colors that formed clouds of light. It was altogether terrifying, and altogether beautiful.

"Tell me, child. What brought you to such a fate? I have rescued many people from the labyrinth, but none as young as you." Her rescuer stood facing away from her with her hands clasped behind her back.

"The…labyrinth?" the girl questioned, utterly bewildered. Only a moment ago she had been struck mute. And what was this 'labyrinth'? She had been in a garden.

"Oh, dear." the woman sighed. "I fear you have forgotten where you came from. It happens when people are left in oubliettes for too long. Who put you there?"

"No one put me anywhere," she said. "I came…from the garden." Why was it so hard to understand?

"My child…you were not in a garden at all. You were in a prison cell, underground, and you were close to death. The garden was merely a hallucination."

"Hallucination?"

"Yes." The tall woman turned suddenly and regarded her with those startling eyes. "Can you remember your name?"

"My name? It's…" What was it? She had a name. But she could not remember it.

"Look at me when you speak," the other commanded, gazing upon her companion and nearly blinding her. "Oh, my…you're human. How can this be? Humans do not usually survive long in the labyrinth."

"What is this 'labyrinth' you keep talking about?" The girl asked, fighting to keep her gaze on her rescuer.

"A terrible place," breathed the being. "Full of horrid creatures and ruled by a tyrannical king." Then, if it were possible, her pupil-less eyes opened even wider, beacons of light now emanating from them, burning into Sarah's vision until she saw nothing. "Yes…it was the king who imprisoned you, my dear. I am prepared to offer you safe refuge here…will you agree to it?"

"Yes," whimpered the girl. The pain had obscured her senses, and she would have said anything to make it go away.

"Very well." The woman conceded, finally breaking the painful connection between them. "You will be my new ward."

* * *

**Please review!**


	5. Rude Awakening

**Hello, folksies! I'm back...after three months. Don't really have much more to say than that. Unforeseen hiatuses will do that to you. **

* * *

Of all creatures who could stumble across his beloved Sarah, it had to be the only one whose powers outmatched his. A strange feeling stirred in Jareth's chest, a dull ache that had grown significantly worse since Sarah had been taken away, so long ago, it seemed, and yet not long at all. It was a pain that swelled within and nearly brought him to his knees a great number of times, pleading for his Sarah to return. But he knew it was near impossible. Her mind had already passed into oblivion.

He decided to try one last thing to find her. He had tried so many and failed, yet the simplest solution had eluded him all this time. If he were to be honest, he didn't know _exactly_ how far his crystals could travel. All he knew was that, in certain circumstances, they could reach beyond the labyrinth. He could only hope this would be one of them.

The Goblin King did not make wishes of his own. But he did make commands. _Find Sarah,_ he commanded the crystal, before sending it drifting out into the night.

As he sat in the window watching the only hope he had slip away into the silent darkness, the strange feeling in his chest deflated and he felt as though it would crush him. He merely sighed and trudged back inside, only a shadow of himself.

* * *

Sarah slept for a long time. She did not know why or how she was so exhausted. When she awoke, however, she felt worse than she had when she'd gone to bed. The bed had been soft and warm, and she'd had pleasant dreams of floating among the stars. But when she lifted—or rather, tried to lift—her head from the pillow, she felt as though her head weighed a ton. Her whole body seemed to. It took all the strength she could muster just to sit up, let alone get out of bed. Had the strange woman put a spell upon her? She remembered being given a soft nightgown and shown a room that would be hers from now on. It was a familiar scene…but why?

A voice had called to her in the night, a man's voice. It was gentle and reassuring, and seemed to beckon her to it. But it was just a voice, and no matter how hard she tried to find its owner among the cosmos, she could not. The voice had danced further and further away from her and then had vanished entirely.

At long last, Sarah finally pulled herself out of bed, noticing aches and pains that had not been there before. As she eased herself up by hanging on to the bedpost, she noticed something odd on the nightstand.

A peach.

The strange woman must have left it for her. God only knew how long it had been since she'd eaten. Greedily, she grabbed it and took a savage bite, the juice dripping down her chin. And it was then that she noticed that this peach didn't taste like peaches were supposed to. It was cold and sharp, as if it were carbonated. Before she could consider it, however, the room began to spin.

_It was difficult to tell whether the space she was in was a room or simply architectural features. The whole scene had an odd distortion to it, as though she were viewing it through a thick lens. Music was playing softly, yet the people had no voices. All around her, depraved nobles in grotesque masks laughed and danced in silence as she struggled to push through them. She was looking for someone…but who?_

_A hand touched her shoulder. _

"_Sarah," said an achingly familiar voice. _

_She turned to face the speaker. He was a tall, thin, blond man who wore an absurd amount of makeup. She was sure she'd seen him before somewhere. _

"_Is that my name?" she asked, astonished to find she had a voice as well. "She never told me what it was."_

"_She?" _

"_The woman who came from the stars," she told him. "She rescued me from a prison."_

"_She took you from me, Sarah. Come back."_

"_A prison…inside a labyrinth. Full of terrible creatures and ruled by a tyrant king." she thought out loud, remembering. "You're who I was running from! The Goblin King!"_

"_Sarah…" he sighed, his eyes pleading. "She has enslaved you and twisted your mind. Come back to me. I mean you no harm."_

"_I…" she began. _

_But before she could finish, the sound of shattering glass exploded in her ears, and the illusion was broken. She awoke with a name on her lips. _

"Jareth!" she cried, sitting bolt upright on the floor where she had collapsed, the bones in her back cracking painfully.

"I beg your pardon?" asked her guardian, appearing in the doorway.

"He…" she gasped, clutching at her chest where her heart was waging war on her ailing body.

"What, dear?"

"I need to go back." she gasped, fearing that her heart might explode if she could not calm down.

"I'm afraid that's quite impossible. You see, my dear" she cackled, procuring a silver hand mirror and handing it to her—_Sarah_, she forced herself to remember her own name. "Much time has passed since then."

Sarah looked at her reflection and found that her eyes would not focus on the mirror's glassy surface. After a moment or so, a wrinkled old hag stared back at her. Her face and hands were dotted with liver spots, her eyes clouded over with cataracts. A few strands of thin white hair clung desperately to her scalp, and sparse yellow teeth grinned maliciously back at her. In her revulsion, she screamed and threw the mirror across the room where it shattered against the wall. The woman who she had perceived as the embodiment of all things good and pure suddenly changed too. The light which emanated from her eyes faded as they became solid black, and her skin turned a sickly shade of greenish-gray as her clothes hung from her in tatters. She advanced on the now-considerably aged Sarah, still with the mind of a girl, backing her into a corner.

* * *

He saw her. Elissa had put upon her all the years he had chosen to withhold. When she came to him in her dreams, he saw a young soul arise from a withered body. If she came back to him now, she would die. There was no way around it. The extent of Elissa's powers was a mystery to him, and no amount of begging or pleading at the feet of the celestial queen could bring Sarah back. Diplomacy was not in her nature, nor was she known to strike any sort of bargain. Especially not with him.

"Jareth!" Sarah's voice cried out to him.

The crystal dropped from his hand and shattered, scattering the light of a thousand stars across the throne room before they faded to plain fragments of glass. Feeling as old as Sarah looked, he got to his feet with an unusual sense of urgency and propelled himself forward, up stairs and down passageways until he reached his chambers.

What he was about to do was an ancient form of magic, hardly practiced anymore, and for good reason. He might not survive it. For a moment, he doubted his own abilities. He'd only done this once before, and it had proved a disaster. In his present state, it would take all his remaining strength. He wasn't even sure if it would work. The links between the Underground and the Above were strong. For centuries, others of his kind had been stealing human children and bringing them back. But few dared to venture into a realm where a creature of such monstrous beauty lay in wait to hear the last wishes of those condemned in the Fae realm, to grant them false hope, and ultimately kill them, feeding on their desires until there was nothing left of body, mind, or soul. And it was all Jareth's fault that it happened in the first place.

He could be cruel, it was true. But not heartless. It turned his stomach to think of what _she_ did.

Turning to face the flames roaring in the fireplace, he produced a crystal and then carefully, methodically, tugged at the fingers of one glove. Taking a dagger from his boot, he sliced the palm of his bare hand and detachedly watched the blood pool before letting the crystal drop from his fingertips into the wound. The pain was insurmountable. A burning both hot and cold shook him to the core and he faltered, reeling backwards and falling to the floor. Panting for breath, after a few seconds he struggled to his feet and strode forward weakly. Now mere inches from the fire he paused to collect himself, took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and vanished into the flames.

* * *

Sarah knew she would not leave this place alive. She had been taken from the bedroom and chained up in a dungeon that smelled of must and rot. What terrified her most was what she had seen; what she could not unsee or think away, no matter how hard she tried.

The Mistress, dragging her by the arm, had opened the door to reveal a figure so emaciated and devoid of color that Sarah would have thought it dead, had it not turned toward the sound and fixed sightless eyes in her direction. Sarah was thrust in and the door slammed behind her with a low clang. The moment it closed, a strange feeling stirred within her, and she sank to the floor, feeling as though a part of her had been ripped out. With the hollow clang of the door, her soul may as well have died.

In the pitch blackness, the pale creature's hand found hers.

"Are you all right, Miss?" it asked in a whispery voice.

"N-no" Sarah shuddered. "She…aged me."

"Aye, I can see that."

"You can?" Sarah asked. "How? You're…blind. I mean, I'm not trying to be rude…"

The creature laughed. "I can sense it. Here," it shuffled closer to her and laid a shriveled hand on her chest, and began speaking in a strange language. Sarah felt her back straighten, the skin draw taut around her face once more, and the pressure withdraw from her joints.

"Is that better?" questioned the voice.

"Much. Thank you." Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. "So…you're not human, then."

"Nay," it answered. "I think I belonged to the Seelie Court once."

"You _think_?"

"Could have been a wood sprite or some such. I don't really remember."

"How long have you been…" Sarah began, but before she could finish her sentence the door flew open and a blinding light filled the cell.

"Silence!" bellowed the terrifying voice of the Mistress. With a wave of her hand, a beam of poisonous -looking green light flashed through the body of Sarah's hapless companion, killing it on the spot. The waiflike creature's body collapsed in her arms. Terrified that the same fate would soon be hers, Sarah shrank back into the shadows, but the mistress merely waved her hand, and a thousand little creatures—neither spiders nor rats, but something in between— came out of the walls toward the lifeless body, and covering it. When they retreated mere moments later, all that was left was a clean skeleton.

The Mistress had been watching, gauging Sarah's reaction to the scene which had just unfolded. Then, satisfied that she had left her new prisoner quite sickened with disgust, she smirked, turned on a heel, and slammed the door behind her.

Sarah listened for the sounds of her retreating footsteps to fade. When the dungeon was completely silent once more, she began screaming and did not stop till her voice was hoarse.

* * *

**So...that's that, then. Lovely, ain't it?**

**Please review!**


	6. Scars and Sacrifice

**Did everyone enjoy the cliffhanger? Good! And now the tale continues...**

**I actually have quite a few more chapters written already, but I'm spacing them out so I won't be out of material for this story while I'm writing another one. Besides, they're all first drafts at this point. **

* * *

Jareth must have been out of his mind. In his owl form, he was silently searching Elissa's castle for any sign of Sarah. The blood magic had weakened him significantly. He could not fly much longer. His wings were already beginning to falter and several times he nearly crash-landed into the trees surrounding the fortress.

The castle was built upon a floating island amid a nebula and was surrounded by a thick stand of trees, thistles, an iron gate, and a moat. He had easily flown over the gate, but the weeds were proving havoc on his wings. He could barely maneuver through them without catching his feathers on a stray thorn or nettle. Finally, just when he felt the last of his strength giving out, he caught sight of a barred window deep behind the minefield of treacherous shrubbery. Something told him that he would find her there. His owl form was just small enough to squeeze through, but just as he entered the dark, dank cell, his powers faded and he transformed back into his Fae self, landing with a thud and a clatter on what appeared to be a pile of bones.

"Sarah…" he panted, gasping for breath. He didn't even bother to right himself and remained on all fours, drinking in the foul air as if it were a clean spring breeze. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw that the heap of bones he had landed on was vaguely human-shaped and his breathing became ragged and shaky. "No…it can't be…I didn't mean…_Sarah!_" he cried.

"Jareth?" a small voice whispered from the corner. "Is that you?"

He produced a crystal, the light from which showed him a pair of huge green eyes staring at him warily. Their owner was huddled against the wall, frightened beyond measure, but very much alive and well, and young again, though not quite as young as when he'd last seen her in the flesh. She looked perhaps twenty or so.

"Sarah!" he sighed in relief. "How…"

"I never thought I'd be so happy to see you, of all people." she said. Only afterwards did she realize how bad that sounded.

"Spare me your spite, Sarah." he growled, irritated. She had been imprisoned by a monster, and yet she still hated _him_? "I'm trying to help you."

"That creature," she answered, faltering for what to say and nodding to the bones. "A wood sprite. It healed me. The Mistress killed it."

"Well, thank heavens I found you before she did the same to you," he said. "But there isn't much time." Withdrawing the knife from his boot one more, he hurried over to Sarah, and before she knew how to respond, took her hand in his and sliced her palm.

"Ow!" she cried.

"Take this," he ordered, setting the crystal in her wounded hand. Reopening his own cut, he took hold of it and muttered some Fae words, and with a flash of light and a rush of air in their ears, they disappeared from the dungeons. He opened his eyes to find Sarah gone, but himself on the floor of Elissa's antechamber.

"What's this?" a cold, callous voice purred. "Why, Jareth, I never thought you'd dare come here again…"

* * *

Sarah awoke in a warm, soft bed, dressed in a fine silk nightgown. She was surprised to find her left hand stretched out at her side, wrapped in a bandage. She heard movement at the other end of the room and at long last stretched and sat up.

In front of the fire was an enormous copper tub into which two goblin women were pouring steaming water. Sarah had never seen a goblin woman in all her time in the Underground. They were just as ugly as the men, but more fragile-looking and delicately built.

"Good…morning?" she queried uneasily. Her head spun as she tried to sit up further.

"Morning, indeed!" huffed one of the goblins as she snapped a towel and shook it out. "It's mid-afternoon."

"Oh…I'm sorry. How long have I been asleep?"

"All night and half the day, and I shouldn't wonder. You were half dead when you came back!"

"Oh, now, stop worrying the girl. She's been through enough." chided the other, giving the first speaker a sharp nudge in the side. "Come along, dearie. You're to have a hot bath and then some food."

Sarah's stomach churned at the mention of food, but she worked her way out of bed and leaned on her caretakers as they helped her over to the tub and undressed her, giggling at how pink her skin turned as she climbed into the water. The bath smelled of lavender. Immediately the two goblins descended upon her with soap and linen. One worked a cloth over her aching limbs and body while the other stood behind her on a stool and poured cascades of water over her head and lathered her hair with something that smelled of lemons. Once she was clean and dry, they helped her into a clean nightdress, rewrapped her injured hand, and sat her back on the bed, propping her up with pillows.

"Now, dearie." One of them soothed, smoothing the blankets around her. "You must eat."

"Oh," Sarah nodded grimly, her stomach twisting. "I'm not hungry. I feel kind of sick."

"Some porridge, then." insisted the goblin.

"All right," agreed Sarah, hoping for some peace and quiet to get her thoughts in order, not that she wasn't grateful to be clean and warm. "Thank you."

"My name is Bitt, and that miserable toad over there is Gorka." she nodded her head in the surly goblin's direction. Gorka rolled her eyes in reply. From her apron pocket, she produced a little bell and handed it to Sarah. "If you need anything, ring this bell and we'll come."

"Thanks," replied Sarah, her fingers curling around the warm brass. "I'm Sarah, by the way."

"We know," said Bitt. "Mercy, the whole kingdom knows who you are, milady."

She and Gorka left to get the food that Sarah _really_ didn't want as she sank back into the pillows and stared dumbly into the fire.

_Milady?_ She guessed she shouldn't be too surprised. Sir Didymus had called her that. Then again, Didymus was Didymus.

The two were soon back with a tray and set it before her. In addition to the porridge, there was a little pot of some fragrant tea which settled her stomach as soon as she smelled it.

"Will there be anything else, Lady Sarah?"

Sarah balked at the unfamiliar title. "No…thank you."

Bitt and Gorka curtseyed to her and retreated from the room, at long last leaving Sarah alone with her thoughts. She sipped her tea and after a while, poked a bit at the porridge, but still found she had no appetite. Her spoon clattered on the tray as she fell back into the pillows and gazed at the canopy above her. Something was wrong. Where was Jareth? She would have expected him to pop in by now, if only to berate her for making him…she didn't even want to think about what he had had to do to get her out of that dungeon.

_He rescued me, _she thought. He really did care, after all. It wasn't just him masquerading as loving her. He had gone out of his way to go on a search and rescue mission. For her.

_I have reordered time. I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you. _

In his own misguided way, he loved her. His displays of affection may have been bizarre and elaborate, but he wouldn't have risked his own life to save hers unless he really cared. Regardless of whether or not she felt the same about him, she was grateful to him for saving her. She decided, foolish as it may be, that she would tell him.

* * *

That night, Sarah lay in her bed, feigning sleep and waiting for the right moment to sneak out and find Jareth. He had to be in the castle somewhere; there was nothing beyond but the labyrinth, and past that, wild lands where nobody ever went. Besides, he was probably resting too.

She sat up in bed and carefully swung her legs over the side, the stone floor cold on her feet. There was a dressing gown on the chair where the white dress had been the morning she had first awoken in this room. She quickly put it on and sank down in the chair, all her energy having been spent getting up. Maybe she was being stupid. She didn't have to do this.

She did.

Something deep within her stirred, as if there was an invisible force compelling her to go on. She slid her feet into fur-lined slippers, rose shakily, and faced the door, grasping the bedpost for support. When she took a step forward, she felt a weight in her palm and looked down to find a glowing crystal in her hand.

"Show me Jareth," she commanded it. Instead of procuring an image of the Goblin King, the crystal leapt from her hand, landing on the floor with a clink and rolled away, leaving a faint glow in its wake. She followed its trail through the halls and stairs slowly, feeling her way along the walls in the dark, her body weakening more and more as she went along; she nearly collapsed a few times. The castle itself had become a labyrinth, its winding hallways making her feel dizzy and ill. But still she pressed on, dragging herself forward before the shining trail faded. She felt like she had been walking for miles when the crystal rolled around a corner and came to a stop with a thud against a closed door. She knelt to pick it up and knocked. After several minutes with no response, she tried the knob and was surprised to find it open.

The room was the gloomiest she'd ever seen; heavy black draperies were accented with splashes of red. In truth, it was exactly the opposite of what she'd expected Jareth's room to look like. The crystal's glow had faded and the only light came from the dying embers of a fire at the far end of the room. She could just make out the silhouette of a candlestick on a table near the door and made for the fire with it, hoping there was still enough of a flame for the wick to catch.

The candle flickered to life with a crackle and a smoky puff, and she swept it around her, its dim light casting eerie shadows on the draperies covering the walls and hanging from the ceiling. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the shape of a bed and moved in closer. As she drew back the dreary curtains, her light came to rest on the still, pale form of Jareth.

He looked terrible. He was devoid of all color, his skin waxy and glistening with sweat. He wore no makeup, and Sarah was surprised to see how close he looked to human without it. His shirt front was open and his hands were bare, one lying limp across his chest as if to feel for a pulse that wasn't there. Sarah set the candle down on the bedside table and sat beside him, taking his hand in hers and finding it cold as ice. There was a long and ragged scar, semi-healed but still red and inflamed, across his chest. A strange burning sensation ran through her as her skin made contact with his, and she backed away. Something had happened to him…had the Mistress tried to kill him, too?

"No…" she gasped. "No!" He couldn't be dead. He couldn't die. She wouldn't let it happen. Maybe he had played cruel tricks on her; maybe it really hadn't been two hundred years since he'd whisked her and Toby away to the labyrinth. But with Jareth dead, she would never know. And she'd be stuck here forever. Her last hope of ever getting home would die with him.

_You came here to thank him, _a voice in the back of her head nudged her. _Stop being so selfish._

"Jareth…" she breathed, as if merely saying his name would bring him back to life. She began to rub his hands between hers in the hopes of bringing some warmth to them, ignoring the strange pulses coursing through her arms as she did. She worked her way up his arms, but paused when she came to his exposed chest. Dare she touch him again? What would it mean if she did?

She decided that it was for the best; she was doing this only to try to save his life. When her fingers made contact with his glistening skin, however, the pulses became stronger, a thrumming and constant current that traveled through her nerves, up her arms and into her chest. It was strange but not unpleasant. She felt for a heartbeat and found none, and so resolved to warming him further before realizing that maybe his heart wasn't where a human's would be. Moving her hand, she found a slow but steady pulse on the right side of his torso, near the bottom of his ribcage. Pressing one hand against the spot, and clasping his cold hand in the other, she repeated, "Please don't die, please don't die" over and over until it became a sort of chant. She was careful not to use the words _I wish._

The connection between them was draining her, and at long last she lay down beside him, still holding his hand with the other over his heart as her pleas ceased and she drifted off into a troubled sleep.

* * *

**I must say, that was an interesting turn of events, wasn't it? Now the question we must ask is, will Jareth live?**

**As always, reviews are appreciated. Even if you hate me for torturing our favorite tight-trousered monarch. **


	7. Misunderstanding

**Hello again! Sorry for all the weird unexpected little hiatuses. Here's chapter 7. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers. You make this story what it is. **

* * *

"Well," purred a voice. "Good morning, precious."

Sarah's eyes shot open to rest on an uneven pair of blue ones hovering above her. "N..no. I came here to thank you last night, and I found you…like…well, like you were dead."

"Goodness. I might well _have_ died from shock had I known. You wanted to thank me?" His voice lacked the finish of his normal superiority complex.

"You didn't have to do what you did," Sarah said, propping herself up on her elbows and leaning back against the pillows. "So why did you?"

"Would you have preferred I leave you at the mercy—or lack thereof—of that woman…that _monster_?" he queried, annoyed.

"Wow," Sarah mused. "Strong words." For Jareth to refer to someone as a monster must have meant that they really were horrible. _Or maybe it takes one to know one,_ she thought.

"Well?"

"Did you do it because somewhere deep down in that hollow space where your heart should be," she pointed at his chest, which was perilously close to hers. Remembering the strange connection that had run between them when last they had touched, she backed away. Jareth followed suit. "You actually care?"

"Must I profess my undying love to you every minute of the day?" he asked. "What's that charming phrase you use Aboveground—actions speak louder than words?"

"I see." she replied. She didn't know how else to respond.

"So you do. Now then, Sarah, we could stay here in my bed, which puts you in a rather compromising position, or we could have breakfast. Which do you prefer?"

"I guess breakfast seems like the better option," she agreed, as Jareth helped her out of bed. "Are you sure you're strong enough to move? You were in pretty bad shape last night."

"Do you mean to tell me," he smiled. "That somewhere deep in that hollow space where your heart should be, you actually care?"

"Shut up," she laughed, nudging him. When she noticed his grimace of pain, she added, "Sorry."

"My, my. A laugh and an apology. This is turning out to be quite a day."

"Don't push your luck, Goblin King."

"Perish the thought, my dear." he returned, offering his arm. "Shall we?"

"We shall."

* * *

"Who was she?" Sarah asked, biting into an apple. She still wasn't up to eating much, and it seemed Jareth wasn't either, judging by the way he stared gloomily at a plate where a half-dismembered orange sat abandoned. "The woman who took me. She only told me to call her 'Mistress'."

"Someone you're very lucky to have escaped from alive," he told her, turning an orange over in his fingers. "I must say, you did very well to remain relatively clear of her wrath until I could find you."

"You call being thrown in a dungeon and watching someone be killed and eaten by…"she shuddered, "whatever those things were, in front of me, 'remaining clear of her wrath'?"

"Yes." he said tersely. "It could have been you. Sarah, come close. Look at me."

"Why?"

"Just do as I ask." he huffed.

Cautiously, Sarah rose from her chair and came to stand by his side. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"Do you see my eyes?" he asked as he turned to face her. Truth be told, she had mostly avoided looking directly in his eyes at all costs. There was something there behind his mask of aloof mockery that made her uncomfortable.

"They're…uneven." she replied, knowing that any minute he could erupt in anger at her for having pointed out a flaw in him.

"A scar, from the last time I did battle with that…_creature_." he cringed, flinging the orange segment onto his plate in disgust. "I was lucky to survive. No doubt you saw the more recent wound last night."

"I did," she conceded. "What happened?"

"Never you mind," Jareth said tersely, crossing his arms. "All you need to know is that I got you out of that horrid place.

"What did she do to you? Did she give you a concussion?" prodded Sarah. It was the only reasonable explanation she could think of for his eyes. Whatever the scar was from, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"If that's what you call having your skull fractured by magic, then yes. That is _precisely_ what she did." He ground his teeth, his jaw visibly strained. His arms remained crossed and he would not meet her eye, preferring instead to stare down at his plate where he busied himself with further dismemberment of the orange. Sarah tried not to notice that his hands were trembling.

"My God…" Sarah breathed, after a moment's consideration. "You're _afraid_ of her, aren't you?"

Jareth snorted. "If I answer in the positive, will you take it as an occasion to gloat that the almighty Goblin King is frightened of something?"

"Of course not!" she cried. "It just makes you seem more human. Which…you're…not." She finished awkwardly.

Jareth took Sarah's hands in his and ducked his head so that she was faced with a mop of blond hair streaked with purple. "It might surprise you to know, Sarah, that humans are not the only beings capable of feeling." he sneered, though she could tell he was embarrassed at having admitted his fear. "In fact, some experience a depth of emotion that humans lack the capacity to understand. It would destroy them."

Her skin crawled at the thought of whatever he might be feeling towards her at the moment, but she kept calm. "Jareth, I didn't mean…"

"I know you didn't, precious." A warmth spread through her, and she knew her face must be turning bright red as he looked back up at her. "I have something to show you."

* * *

Jareth led her up to a vast, airy library. He had offered his arm to her, and Sarah found herself comfortable with it. She didn't particularly like it, but she wasn't compelled to pull her arm away, either. Maybe she _was _warming up to him.

They entered a pleasant, if not a bit dusty, space. It was well-lit by the sunlight streaming in through the high windows. Dust motes floated lazily through the air, eventually coming to rest on sills and shelves. Three and a half walls were filled floor to ceiling with books, half of the fourth was occupied by a fireplace and two leather armchairs. Sarah saw no stairs or ladders reaching to the upper shelves, and she wondered how Jareth could reach them. She watched as he perused the shelves for a moment, locked his eyes on a book, and with a wave of his hand a weighty tome suddenly appearing in the crook of his arm, leaving a space among the books three shelves from the ceiling. Magic. That figured.

"Here," he said, nodding toward a chair and gesturing for her to sit. He placed the book on the stand in front of her and the pages flew open to rest on a page full of tiny script and a rather graphic illustration of a luminescent woman in a gilt dress and a man, slumped against a pillar, his head split open and blood pouring out from the wound in a garish cascade. He was thin and blond, and wore a glistening cloak and heeled boots. It was Jareth and her captor. A beam of sickeningly familiar green light emanated from the woman's eyes into his.

"Oh…" gasped Sarah.

"Read," Jareth commanded tersely. Sarah did as she was told.

_In the fourth Yeare of his reign as King of the Underground Realme, the young Fae Prince Jareth met a worthy Foe in Elissa of the Unseelie, who had murdered his lady love Liana, and struck him down as he sought to avenge her…_

"Jareth, I'm…you were…" before she could finish her sentence, the pages flipped again, coming to rest on an elaborate illustration of a woman equally as radiant as Elissa, but with dark hair and piercing green eyes. It was as if Sarah was face-to-face with the Fae version of herself.

"Twin sisters," Jareth said, as if speaking to the thin air. "One good, one evil. You can no doubt guess which one was which. My father, disreputable cur that he was, often had business with the Unseelie. One day, he brought me with him, and on that day, I met Liana. We grew close, while her sister took a strange, if not envious, fancy to me. Liana and I married eventually, and when Dagon banished me here, she followed me. She said she would die rather than us be parted." His actions were much the same now as the night he first spoke in depth about his past, and Sarah knew it pained him greatly. "Elissa, one night in a jealous rage, spirited her away and locked her up in her fortress in the stars, intending to disguise herself and take her place. Being the lovesick young fool that I was, when I found out, I went to rescue her. Elissa caught me, plucked the feathers from my wings, and demanded I face her as a man. I complied, and being completely unprepared, was rather damaged by the force of her wrath. I was able to heal myself, but just barely enough to make it out alive and summon a proper healer. But…" he broke off and cleared his throat. When next he spoke, it was in a low whisper. "But I could not save Liana. She was already dead by the time I found her."

The entire time he spoke, Sarah had been staring at him incredulously. He didn't seem to notice. During his speech, his gaze had been fixed on a distant spot on the floor as if he could see the tragic tale happening there. His head suddenly snapped up and his piercing eyes met hers, revealing sheer unmasked pain.

"I…" he shuddered, looking away. "I feared the same had happened to you. I couldn't bear it if…"

"Oh, _Jareth_." she sighed. He looked so hurt…and yet she knew.

She could not replace his wife.

"Jareth," she continued. "I'm not her. I can't be her, and I can't replace her. You know that, don't you?"

"I know," he replied gloomily.

"Did they all…" she wondered, remembering that he said there had been others. "Did they all look like her? Like me?"

"More or less." he shrugged, easing back into his nonchalant self.

"What happened to them?" She would not falter. If he needed comfort, she would give it to him. Her heart began hammering in her chest. Jareth seemed inches away from snapping and going insane.

"Oh, that monster got them all in the end." He tried to be blasé, but wasn't very convincing.

Something snapped within her, and Sarah was no longer sympathetic, but disgusted. He hadn't cared enough about the others, so why her? What devious purpose did he have in store for her? Surely it wasn't just so she could be his wife...his lover. All manner of scenarios, each more sickening than the last, ran through her mind until she finally blurted, "So you've been playing this ridiculous game, making girls who _looked like_ _your dead wife_, run your labyrinth and get captured and killed by Elissa for _how_ long, exactly?"

"Three thousand years." he admitted in defeat.

"What?! That's _disgusting_! And to think I almost felt sorry for you, you…you vile old creep! I don't even want to know _what_ your plans were for any who might've succeeded!" Throwing the book to the floor, she ran out of the library.

"Sarah! Wait!" called Jareth. But she did not stop. She kept running until her footsteps were mere echoes, and then nothing. Silence.

After a while, he retrieved the book and turned the pages until he reached Liana's portrait. He stared at it for a long moment before speaking the words he meant to say to Sarah.

"You were the only one since her that I went back for." he whispered, and finally, after so many years of holding back, wept in despair. No matter what he did, or how hard he tried to explain it to her, she would never understand. And she would hate him.

* * *

**Will these two ever get along? **

**Reviews often serve as reminders for me to get my rear in gear and write more chapters. **


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